unpleasant gestures fill the room with tense passion why do you do it and how does it work my sorrow is great undetermined to whom answers untold will linger and lurk accused of the truth stops me in my tracks questions firing but the answer still lacks should i come clean or should I stay on my track my mind kept locked by the way shell react stuttering for time stuttering for you i enter my mind searching for a clue my awaiting epiphany hides in discretion until the bridge is gapped for the end of suppression but the overpass gives out from the absence of speech and my conscience will slowly be unwound and breached truth, like water flows over my bridge carrying the broken pieces over my figurative ridge as the truth rushes through it brings with it remains of the untold lie that will soon be named or perhaps renamed as my self proclaimed title
is that how you see me thats not who i am youre blinded by hate my lie started little but ended too great so dont drowned in my river charge at it with force swim through it with trust and open the doors